It’s been a full week since I beat down my first year of grad school into submission. I remember last Thursday like a distant dream: the other me and her journey, now complete. It feels like a million years ago. It feels like another reality. My priorities have quickly been rewritten. I’m now in the full throes of planning a household integration project with Lovely Boyfriend. The endless question presents itself: to live or to write? I can’t do both. If i don’t live i have nothing to write about. If i don’t write, life loses a full dimension of flavor. It’s the serpent eating its tail. Oh serpent: You’re everywhere.
In better news, I just got published in Forge Journal. That eases the discomfort of the perpetual existential crisis about my artistic identity.